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Yet I had no proof except marks on my arm that were already fading. Even if I still had them when I showed the nurses, Derek could say I'd lured him into the basement and flipped out, and he'd had to grab my arm to restrain me. After all, I was a diagnosed schizophrenic. Hallucinations and paranoia went with the territory.
I had to handle this myself.
I should handle this myself.
I'd led the proverbial sheltered life. I'd always known that meant I lacked the life experience I'd need to be a screenwriter. Here was my chance to start getting it.
I'd handle this. But to handle it, I needed to know exactly what I was up against.
* * *
I took Rae aside.
“Do you still want to see Simon and Derek's files?” I asked.
She nodded.
“Then I'll help you get them. Tonight. "
Fourteen
WE FOUND MRS. TALBOT setting out the evening snack. Carrot sticks and dip. Yum. Whatever complaints I had about Annette, at least I could always count on brownies at home.
“Hungry, girls? I'm not surprised. No one ate very much at dinner. ”
She held out the plate. We each took a stick and dipped it.
“Chloe and I were thinking, Mrs. T,” Rae said. “About Tori. ”
She set the plate on the table, eyes downcast as she nodded. “I know, dear. She's taking Liz's leaving very hard. They were close. I'm sure she'll feel better once they can talk, but until then she may feel a little down while we get her… medication adjusted. We'll need you girls to be extra nice to her. ”
“Sure. ” Rae licked dip off her finger. “We were wondering, though, whether it might be easier for her if she had the room to herself. I could sleep in Chloe's. ”
Mrs. Talbot handed Rae a napkin. “I don't want to isolate her too much but, yes, she'd probably be happier alone for now. ”
“Just for now?”
The nurse smiled. “No, you can move in with Chloe permanently, if that's what you'd both like. ”
* * *
While Tori was downstairs watching television, Rae started to move, as if afraid Miss Van Dop or Dr. Gill would veto the change.
She handed me a stack of T-?shirts. “It's Simon, isn't it?”
“Hmm?”
“You want to know what Simon is in for. ”
“I don't—”
She draped her jeans over her arms and waved me out. “You two have been chatting every meal. At first, I thought maybe he was using you to throw Tori off his trail, but she wasn't paying any attention today, and he kept talking. ”
“I'm not—”
“Hey, you like him. That's fine. ” She opened Liz's bottom drawer. It was empty—every trace of her cleaned out while we'd been in class. “I don't care for the guy, but that's just my opinion. Maybe he's just stuck up with me because I'm not in his league. ”
“League?”
She held up a pair of jeans and pointed to the label. “You see anyone else in this place wearing jeans from Wal-?Mart? It's a private home. You gotta pay for it, and I bet it costs more than Motel 6. I'm the designated charity case. ”
“I—"
“It's cool. You treat me fine. So did Peter and—” a somber look around her new room “—Liz. Derek's a jerk to everyone, so I don't take it personally. If I'm only getting the cold shoulder from Simon and Tori, I can live with it. That's why I think those two are perfect for each other, but if you like him and he likes you? None of my business. But you're smart to run a background check. ”
She headed back to her old room, me at her heels. “My friend's mom did that with a guy she was supposed to marry. Found out he had three kids he'd never mentioned. ” She grinned over her shoulder. “I'm pretty sure Simon doesn't have kids, but you never know. ”
As we finished clearing out her drawers, I considered letting it go at that. But I didn't want her thinking I was the kind of girl who gets into a new place and immediately starts scoping out the guys. If I wasn't ready to tell the nurses about Derek, I should tell someone. That way, I'd have backup for my story if I needed it later.
“It's not Simon,” I said as we returned to her room, clothing finished. “It's Derek. ”
She'd been in the middle of plucking a photo from the wall and fumbled it, cursing as I rescued the fallen photograph.
“Derek? You like—”
“God, no. I meant Derek's the one I'm checking out—and not that way. ”
She exhaled and leaned against the wall. “Thank God. I know some girls go for the jerks, but that's just nasty. ” She flushed as she took the picture from me and reached for another. “I shouldn't say that. It's not his fault, the whole…” She faltered for a word.
“Puberty smackdown. ”
A grin. “Exactly. I should feel sorry for the guy, but it's hard when his attitude is as ugly as his face. ” She stopped, photo in hand, and glanced over her shoulder at me. “Is that it? Did he . . . do something?”
“Why? Does he have a history of that?”
“Depends on what that is. Being rude, yes. A jerk, yes. He ignores us except when he doesn't have a choice and, believe me, no one complains. So what did he do?”
I considered my words. I didn't want her to insist I talk to the nurses, so I left out the throwing-?me-?across-?the-?room part and just said he'd been following me, popping up when I was alone.
“Ah, he likes you. ” She handed me a photo to hold.
“No, it isn't like that. ”
"Uh-?huh. Well, you'd probably rather it wasn't like that, but it sure sounds like it. Maybe you're his type. At my school, there's this guy I like, on the basketball team. He's even taller than Derek, but he always goes for tiny girls like you.
I took another photo from her. “That's not it. I'm absolutely certain of it. ”
She opened her mouth and I felt a flash of annoyance. Why is it that every time a girl says a guy is bothering her, it's fluffed off with oh, he just likes you, as if that makes it okay?
